


Nailing Down Joy

by ivorykeys



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged Up, Baking Puns, Drinkdrankdrunk, F/M, Our superheroes have potty mouths, Reveal, Take real places and fake them up, Tikki has jokes, cocktail puns, supertroopers right MEOW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 23:38:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12468536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivorykeys/pseuds/ivorykeys
Summary: The gang's in college! Marinette chases her dream of fashion design, Alya considers a change in major, Adrien is back in town, Nino is...somewhere...and the first akuma since graduation attacks.This is an updated version of the same fic posted on fanfiction.net





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!  
> This was one of my first forays back into fanfiction writing, I hope you enjoy it <3
> 
> I'm posting from my phone soooo I hope this works.

“Oh Marinette, it's our first day at university!” 

Tikki’s overly-enthusiastic squeal made Marinette’s insides churn. She longed for the familiar expectations of her high school. The brown desks, the white walls, and even that horrible Chloe Bourgeois in the front row. At least you knew what you were getting from her.

Her fingers itched to text Alya. She missed her spunky friend already, and she'd only just left their dorm room. But no. Marinette felt determination flood her spine, and her extremities tingled. She would stand and face her first day of fashion design classes on her own.

So, with the resolve only a teenager who had spent the last two years flying high above the streets of Paris fighting crime could muster, Marinette entered her first building.

“Gah, Tikki, I don't know what I'm going to do!” Marinette wailed, flinging herself on her extra-long twin bed. “How am I supposed to match patterns when the fabric texture is all wrong and it smells weird?”

The tiny red kwami fluttered around her head. “Marinette, you can do it! Just plug your nose,” she offered helpfully.

Marinette peeked at her from under her arm. “I don't think my nose is the problem.”

“Come on, get up! Your project is due at the end of the week. Professor DiVincenzo wasn't kidding when he said there weren't going to be any extensions!”

“Ugh. You know what, Tikki? Screw Professor DiVincenzo! I want to have fun. Aren't you supposed to have fun in college?” Marinette glared at the pile of textbooks and spiral notebooks and stray papers on her desk. She imagined the entire thing going up in flames.

The kwami giggled. “You can't ignite your classwork. Maybe you should take a night off this weekend,” she suggested, and at Marinette’s perked up grin, she added, “ After you finish your project, of course.”

Marinette sighed. “Of course.” She noticed the corner of a small photo poking out of a folder. Pulling it out, she sighed again. “I wonder what Adrien is doing right now,” she wondered, tracing the fair features she'd memorized long ago.

At that moment, the heavy wooden door to her dorm room flung open with a loud bang as it hit the door stopper on the floor. Alya came barreling in, waving her phone. Tikki dove into Marinette’s backpack just in time.

“Marinette! Can you believe it? My communications professor found the Ladyblog! She said I did great work and I should consider journalism!” The squealing that followed rivaled the audience at a Jagged Stone concert.

“That's great! Do you think you'll switch?” Marinette asked, hopping up off of her bed.

“I think I might! You know, we’re still in our first semester here and I really thought I wanted to be in communications. I thought I'd never be a real journalist. But she said she could get me an interview with the director of the journalism program and maybe even put in a good word for me!”

“Alya, that's wonderful! I'm so happy for you,” Marinette said genuinely.

“We should celebrate tonight! Tell me you don't have anything big for school due.”

“Well, I do have this big project, but it's not due until Friday.” Marinette could hear Tikki protesting from her bag, but she nudged it under her bed with her foot.

“Excellent! Let's go to Chez Georges! We can try some fancy wine and cheeses and then head down to the real party!” Alya suggested, but it was more of a statement than a suggestion. Luckily, Marinette wasn't one to go to the mat over nightclub choices. She hadn't even the slightest clue regarding Paris’s night life.”

With an agreeable smile from Marinette, Alya flounced out of the room with her shower basket, guaranteeing Tikki at least twenty minutes to scold Marinette.

“What are you thinking?!” the spotted kwami shrieked as she rocketed out from under the bed. “Your project-”

“Can wait,” Marinette calmly finished. “I'll go out tonight with Alya, and I'll complete my work tomorrow. It's no big deal, Tikki. Friday is two whole days away!”


	2. Chapter 2

Marinette clutched Alya’s arm, visibly uncomfortable in her short dress.

“Why am I wearing this again? I never thought it'd see the light of day,” she hissed, tugging at the hem of the dress she'd designed as her senior project.

“Because it's an awesome dress, and you look hot. You're going to be a world famous fashion designer, remember? Better get used to wearing your own stuff!” Alya chirped happily. “Anyway, I didn't even make you wear heels, and I let you wear those old earrings.”

Marinette’s fingers flew up to her Miraculous. “They're a family heirloom, I told you!” she half-shrieked, unable to keep her voice steady.

“Jeez, take a breath, Marinette. I didn't give you a hard time, did I?”

Marinette shook her head “no.”

“Okay then. Relax, it'll be fun!” Alya pushed one of the double doors open and held it for her friend. “Welcome to Chez Georges!”

Marinette stepped inside and immediately wrinkled her nose. “What's that smell?” she asked, refraining from pinching her nostrils shut.

“That, my dear Marinette, would be the lilting fragrance of Camembert,” a soft male voice said from her right.

Marinette froze, and slowly swiveled to the voice. Her face felt like she'd stuck it into one of the bakery’s ovens.

“Adrien,” she breathed.

He looked good. Really good. She could have sworn he grew another few inches, and he cut his hair shorter. The beginnings of blond stubble were dusted across his smirking jaw.

“Marinette,” he answered, closing the distance between them in a few long strides. “I thought I saw Alya, and then when I saw you I knew my eyes weren't playing tricks on me.”

“What are you doing in town?” she blurted. “Aren't you on Gabriel Agreste’s first international tour? I thought you were in Milan-no, Milan was last week-Prague, wasn't it?” She was positive her face was now the color of the bottle of merlot not far from her. It was quite obvious she had been following his global movements.

He chuckled graciously. “We have our last show in Paris, and then I'm sticking around. I have an internship with my father’s company, and I'll start classes at the university next semester.”

Marinette gasped. Adrien was going to be in her classes again.

“That's wonderful!” She reached out but didn't touch him; she didn't dare trust herself not to pounce and wrap all four limbs around his body in pure delight. She twiddled her hands and fidgeted until finding a semi-comfortable position in hugging her own midsection.

“Yeah, it is. I'm really excited to be back. I've missed this city,” he said wistfully.

Now it was her turn to chuckle. “I bet all your exotic destinations don't have exciting akuma attacks.” She realized that now she’d mentioned it, there hadn't been an akuma attack since Principal Damocles had been akumatized into The Professor at graduation. Luckily, Ladybug and Chat Noir hadn't been far, she thought drily.

Paris hadn't seen hide nor hair of Chat Noir, and not a flutter from Ladybug since.

“Ah, yes. Who wouldn't miss getting turned into knights or stone monsters?” he joked back. “Well, I won't keep you from Alya. She looks like she wants to taste some wine and cheese with her best friend,” Adrien said, gesturing to Alya, who was sipping a Chardonnay while nibbling on gruyere and pretending not to be listening to their conversation.

“Yeah, I should get back. Any- ah-suggestommendations?” Marinette asked as she started to turn away. Then she kicked herself for speaking.

“Oh, sure. Stay away from the Camembert, you'll reek into next week!”

She smiled and flashed him an awkward”ok” sign, turning away. Glancing back, she noticed him prance down the stairs into the nightclub stowed away in the basement. She made a mental note to look for him once they followed.

Alya was bursting at the seams, already three glasses deep.

“Please tell me that wasn't Adrien Agreste!”

“It was,” Marinette gladly confirmed. “He's back in town for good, it seems!”

“Wow. I read that Gabriel’s had quite the successful tour. Mr. Agreste himself even went!”

“It really must have been a big deal. How much wine have you had?” Marinette asked, lightly flicking the stem of Alya’s glass.

“Enough to want to ditch the cheese and hit the party up! Let's go!” she said, tugging Marinette by the wrist toward the basement stairs.

There really was no convincing Marinette. She was already down the steps.


	3. Chapter 3

The effects of the wine Alya had consumed were becoming more and more prominent. She was instant BFFs with every person she came across, and as Marinette followed her to the bar, Alya acquainted herself with the young man patiently waiting for her to tell him what she wanted.

“I'll have a vodka cranberry, and my friend here will have a tequila sunrise,” the slightly swaying redhead ordered.

As Marinette was served her drink, she was delighted at the separation of colors.

“How do you make the red stay on the bottom?” she wondered aloud, her nose just barely touching the cold glass as she examined the liquid inside.

The bartender stared at her blankly. “This is your first drink, isn't it?” he asked.

Marinette blushed. “No, it's not,” she defended herself. “I've had lots of alcohol before. Lots.”

“Mm-hm.” Clearly the bartender didn't believe her, and he didn't care. Well, Marinette was going to show him.

She thought it lucky that the tequila sunrise tasted sweet enough that it didn't take long to order her next drink. She strutted up to the bar and, hiding her phone behind her back where she had just taken a Buzzfeed quiz to determine her next drink, asked for a black margarita.

The bartender raised his eyebrow a bit at the request, but set about pouring and flipping liquor bottles around his head.

Alya flopped onto a bar stool next to her. “Giiiiiirl. This is drink number four for you?”

Marinette giggled. “No, Drunky McDrunkerpants. It's only number two. I'm not going to get too crazy tonight,” she said loud enough to be overheard by the bearer of her margarita.

“Get on my level! Whatever she's having, put an extra shot in it, on me!” Alya called, obviously directing that last part to the bartender, who only shrugged and did as he was told.

Sipping the freshly made margarita, Marinette winced as the extra shot of Chambord slid down the back of her throat. It was true that her knowledge and experience with alcohol was limited (as in, she'd only ever tasted the rum her parents baked with in their desserts), but she was positive that the drink would have been much more chuggable without the added liqueur.

It really wasn't long before she'd finished it though, and an even shorter time period before she found herself bopping around on the dance floor with Alya. The club’s overhead lights were dim and the neon strobe lights coupled with her current state of intoxication made it hard to see. She wasn't by any means trashed, but she was feeling awfully good.

“Alya! I want to get another drink!” she shouted at her friend, who already had her sixth? seventh? glass of wine finished off. She made sure she got a thumbs up from Alya before heading to the bar again.

This time, she came prepared. She'd overheard another girl ask for a gin and tonic, which she thought sounded sophisticated and elegant. The bartender gave her no satisfaction, however. He was very preoccupied with the girls at the far end of the bar and very quickly made her drink and accepted payment.

“Well, I showed him!” she cheerfully congratulated herself. Choosing to believe the best of the world around her was an essential part of her personality.

“You showed who what?” asked a familiar male voice from behind. A goofy grin crossed her face as she turned around, and she thought she should be feeling something, but couldn't quite remember what it was. All she felt was relaxed and confident.

“Adrien! I was just saying, that bartender over there thought I'd never had a drink before!” She doubled over laughing as if this was the most hilarious tidbit ever.

“Well, have you?” he asked, amused at this new version of Marinette.

“Um, of course. I mean, I've had caneles de bordeaux so, yes!”

Now it was Adrien’s turn to laugh. “I'm sure. Why don't you finish that, and then you can let me have the next dance?”

Marinette’s mouth dropped open. Now she was positive she was supposed to be feeling a certain way. But yet, she couldn't remember. All she felt was pure delight at her high school crush asking to dance with her.

It really wasn't smart, and poor Marinette really had no past experiences to draw from, but she tipped the gin and tonic back, downed it, and set the glass firmly back on the bar.

“We go!” she announced, taking Adrien by the hand and tugging him into the dark throng of people.

It was very hot in there, and the tiny ravenhead was pleased with herself for wearing her dress. She adjusted it, drawing Adrien’s attention to it.

“I really like this style on you. Where'd you get it?” he yelled, hoping to be heard.

“Me! I did it! I got it from me!” she answered in kind. 

The impressed expression on his face was not hard to identify. “You're very talented! I bet you could send your portfolio into my father’s company!”

Something in the back of her mind felt weird for having this shouting conversation in the middle of a nightclub, but he'd just encouraged her to apply with her favorite designer.

“That's my dream! Maybe you can put in a good word for me!”

The wide smile on his face would have alerted anyone that he probably wouldn't remember this conversation the next day, but he enthusiastically answered, “I will! As soon as I get home! Maybe one day I'll model one of your designs!”

Now that… that was enough to make Marinette melt. And this time, she did pounce on him. She did wrap all four of her limbs around his torso. And the way he grabbed her hips was so… familiar.

“I think you're amazing,” the girl said breathily, in the way that only intoxicated college freshmen could say.

The blond’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. She could hear his breathing become more shallow. And her heart pounded when she noticed him leaning in.

It was a chaste kiss, not one that you'd normally see in the wee hours of the morning at a Paris nightclub. But she felt it right down to the tips of her toes as she slid down to land on those tingling feet.

A moment of clarity.

“Uh… Adrien… I never-thank you-No! I mean… I-”

He only chuckled and fished in his jeans pocket. He placed the pen in her hand and pointed the tip at the back of his. 

“Write down your number for me?” he asked, almost so quietly that she couldn't hear him.

She mumbled something about “can't hear a damn thing in here, thank you, sorry” as she neatly printed her phone number on his skin.

Both of their heads jerked up as they heard a screech from Alya.

“Look!”

All eyes were directed at the bartender, who stood on the top of the bar dressed in a ridiculous outfit of brightly colored silks. He had a moth-shaped mask on.

“Oh, fuck.”


	4. Chapter 4

“I am the Mixologist! Beware my delicious cocktails! Screwdriver!” the akumatized bartender cried, popping the top off of a liquor bottle and spraying the contents at the girls he had just been conversing with. They all turned into actual screwdrivers and clattered to the floor. “That'll teach them to poke fun at me!”

“Bahama Mama!” He pointed his bottle at a group of guys at the bar, and instead of jeans and polos, they suddenly sported bikinis and long hair.

Adrien and Marinette locked eyes.

“I better go,” they both said in unison.

Marinette dashed into the ladies’ bathroom, narrowly missing the doorframe, where she was met with other girls trying to escape the akuma. Obviously, this wouldn't work. She did, however, find the door for the walk-in refrigerator. 

“Tikki! We need to transform!”

The little red kwami floated up to her head. “Are you sure? Aren't you still very, very drunk?”

“I don't have a choice!” Marinette responded, trying to keep a clear head. She tried really hard not to laugh, since she was pretty sure this was serious business. “Spots on!”

Ladybug emerged from the refrigerator, brandishing her yo-yo and tangling it around her own legs. Lordy, she hoped Chat Noir would come quickly.

She barged into the main bar area where Mixologist was, and on her third try managed to lasso his arms together.

“Not today!” she called, yanking the akuma toward her and aiming a punch square in his face.

“Oof. Ladybug! Give me your Miraculous!”

“Fat chance, douchebag!”

She threw herself into a cartwheel and landed her feet into his gut. She was getting dizzy from the alcohol swirling around in her system and it was making her goofy. 

“Maybe no more cartwheels,” she said under her breath. 

Mixologist tried to shoot her with his liquor bottle. “Gibson!”

A guitar came flying at her, and even in her swirling state it was easy to dodge.

“What a shame. That looked like a nice guitar,” she scolded him. “I think I'd like to learn someday. I love music. Maybe I can join Jagged Stone’s band if I get good enough! Nah, maybe not. I liked designing his album cover better.” The words were out before she could stop them from rolling off her tongue, but Mixologist didn't seem to hear her.

“Where is that fucking cat?” Ladybug growled uncharacteristically. She was very put off by his tardiness and her inability to keep her rambling mouth shut.

“‘That fucking cat’ is right here, my lady. I'm just pawsitively tickled to see you working.”

Chat Noir vaulted down the stairs to meet her at the bar, whacking Mixologist upside the head with his baton. 

“Greyhound!” Mixologist yelled, pointing his bottle at Chat. A dog erupted from the tip.

“Motherfucker! I hate dogs!” Chat Noir hissed, his hackles rising and his claws scrambling to get away. He perched at the top of the liquor cabinet, trying to wave away the greyhound with his baton. At last, the baton made contact and the dog dissolved into a puddle of gin. “Victory!” he cried.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” the akuma snarled. “Fuzzy Navel!”

Chat Noir was blasted with the liquor bottle, and froze. He began to twitch.

“What's the matter with you? You look like it's your first time at a Zumba class!” Ladybug yelled.

“Uh...I think..I think I need a scratching post,” he responded, a little too calm. He made a real effort to stand very still, but he cracked. The leather-clad superhero stood on top of the bar, frantically clawing at his midsection.

“This is no time for belly scratches!” reprimanded Ladybug. She was standing on a pub table and tried to step onto a chair back but it wobbled and she was stuck straddling the furniture. She prayed Chat wouldn't notice.

“This really isn't my ideal time either, Bugaboo! I'd much prefer gentle scratches from your lovely nails after we'd knocked this guy into next week!”

“Your flattery seems a little off its game today, Chat. Feeling alright?” she teased, noting the clunky words and strained delivery. She did, however, manage to keep her balance.

“Well… I probably shouldn't drive a car tonight, see…”

“Oh my God, me too!” she squealed, delighted that they were a team even in intoxication.

“So is this where I propose to you and we run off and elope, and wake up the next morning living in wedded bliss?”

Ladybug rolled her eyes, dodging another cocktail attack and getting herself out of her balancing-act predicament even though she landed right on her dignity. She quickly got up and tried to catch Mixologist with her yo-yo again but it fell short.

“What are you waiting for?” Chat Noir screeched, still itching his stomach. “Round him up!”

“My aim sucks!” Ladybug tried again and failed.

“Where's the akuma?”

“I don't know!” she cried, panicking for the first time. This was all a really fun game until she realized she had no idea how to beat this akuma.

“Lucky Charm!” A dartboard fell into her hands. “Oh. So I just beat him at darts and he gives up the akuma,” she reasoned, but then, “No, that can't be right. What the hell am I supposed to do with this?” She did a little jig as she tried to figure it out while Mixologist engaged her itching partner.

“Arrgghh!” Chat Noir’s voice cracked and his arms were now flailing, his newly fuzzy navel seemingly spreading to his chest and back. He whipped his baton around, also trying his best to smack the akuma with it. Just as Mixologist was about to blast Ladybug with another cocktail, Chat Noir’s baton came smashing directly into the akuma’s liquor bottle, shattering it into pieces.

“No!” Mixologist howled, as a black and purple butterfly fluttered up out of the glass shards.

Ladybug saw her chance and internally celebrated. “Time to de-evilize!”

She wound up like a ballerina-baseball pitcher, twirled, and let loose her shining white yo-yo with a high pitched “Yah!” The butterfly was just about to get out the window when-

She missed.

The yo-yo came back to her, empty. She may as well have punched herself in the gut with it. Hot tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. All three of them watched the butterfly escape out the window with wide eyes. 

“Miraculous Ladybug!” Ladybug cried, tossing the unused dartboard into the air and unleashing the healing swarm of ladybugs. Her voice was unsteady and she bit her lip, trying not to sob.

The bartender, in his civilian form, sat back on his heels. 

“What happened?”


	5. Chapter 5

“Ladybug, what happened out there?” Chat Noir asked as he walked away from the scene with the red and black spotted heroine.

She turned away from him, embarrassed and frustrated and sobering up. “I'm really drunk. I thought I could have a fun night out and got too carried away. There hasn't been an akuma attack for months! Now I've made a huge mistake.”

“Listen, I'm pretty buzzed too. I sort of thought these responsibilities were fizzling out, so I wanted to have a good time. I guess I was wrong too. And this wasn't really how I imagined meeting up with you again.”

“Me either.”

“I sort of pictured trumpets, and the heavens opening up while we are doused in golden light.”

He seemed to be taking a breath to add on to his statement, but Ladybug interrupted. “I think you're overly dramatic.” Her earrings began to beep.

“I need to check on Al-uhhhh-my friend. I should have been taking care of her, and God knows where she even is right now.” Ladybug buried her face in her hands. “I'm a terrible friend.”

“Aw, no, Bugaboo. Everyone makes mistakes,” Chat said gently, daring to lay his claw on her upper arm. “I'm pretty sure you're allowed a bad night once in awhile. And it doesn't even mean you're a bad anything. In fact-”

“Those people counted on me to purify the akuma, and I failed them. My friend counted on me to keep her safe. We were there to celebrate her own accomplishments, and I couldn't even hold it together to do that. I should just go find her.” Another beep.

“Ladybug, wait!” Chat grabbed her arm before she could leap away. “I know you feel like shit and you have to go but I'm feeling a lot like I should do this while I still have a little bit of a buzz, and I feel like I need to tell you right meow. I'm in love with you, and I have been in love with you since I first met you. I think the sun shines out of your ass and I don't care that you got so obliterated tonight that the akuma got away. I think you have so much talent, you could be whatever you want to be, even a famous rock star. I don't think you're a bad friend or a bad Ladybug. I think you're incredible.”

He took her lean shoulders in his claws and kissed her soundly. Then, he was gone, leaving Ladybug on the rooftop in stunned silence. The ghost of his kiss started flicking little synapses in her brain, like she should know something… Another beep.

“Son of a bitch! My project!” Ladybug shrieked. Realization hit her that she still needed to get home before her transformation ran out and go to sleep for the night lest she wreak havoc upon the earth as not-enough-sleep-Marinette. She just didn't have the mental bandwidth to analyze Chat Noir and his tantalizing kiss tonight.

It was the bright hour of six a.m. by the time Ladybug returned to the freshmen dormitory, and six-oh-two before Marinette quietly willed the heavy wooden door silent as she tried to creep into her shared room. Unfortunately her willpower was just not strong enough to extend to the door and it opened with an ear piercing creak that would wake the dead. The lumps in Alya’s bed startled awake.

“Marinette?”

“The fuck?”

“Nino?”

They stared at one another until Nino chuckled.

“It's good to see you again, Marinette. Alya tells me you two share a room here,” he said, swinging his sweatpants-covered legs out from under the duvet.

“Yeah, we do,” Marinette answered lamely. “If you don't mind my asking-”

“Oh. No, don't worry about it. I decided that Barcelona wasn't worth it if Alya wasn't there with me. So I hit her up last night and saved her life.” He winked at Alya, making her blush.

Internally, Marinette was grateful. She'd need to apologize to Alya later for bailing on her while she was three sheets to the wind.

“I have the worst hangover,” Alya complained. Marinette had a feeling she was trying to distract Nino from making any declarations of undying love for her in front of Marinette. “So wild though. Something was wrong with Ladybug last night. I might be mistaken, but I'm pretty sure they didn't really win.”

Marinette huffed, “Yeah, Ladybug was pretty useless. If it wasn't for Chat Noir, that whole nightclub would have been swimming in the embodiments of cocktail puns. The worst form of comedy.” She considered her statement. Chat Noir was pretty infamous for his own puns.

Alya giggled. “You've never liked puns.”

“Nope. No, I have not.”

Marinette sat at her desk, toying with the bolts of fabric in front of her. Alya and Nino left to get breakfast, promising to bring her a croissant.

“It won't be as good as Papa’s,” she muttered after they had gone. “Why bother with it?”

“Oh, Marinette,” Tikki giggled, patting her Chosen’s cheek. “You're cranky when you stay out all night. They're just being nice. You bake me crazy. One cannoli hope you get some coffee in you soon. But I loaf you, even when you feel crumby.”

Marinette laid her throbbing forehead on her smelly desk as the tiny red kwami burst out into a belly laugh, obviously pleased with herself.


	6. Chapter 6

Marinette trudged into class Friday afternoon. She had been dragging ass all morning putting the finishing touches on her project and hoped it'd been enough. The young designer disliked using existing patterns and much preferred creating her own.

There was also the noxious odor emanating from the bolts of fabric that she wasn't a fan of. It smelled like a moldy, musty warehouse, with an ever so delicate hint of poop.

She had other things to think about anyways. Things such as Adrien, and Chat Noir and his confessing under the influence. Should she take him at face value? Would he try to laugh away the kiss that still made her cheeks heat and her spine freeze? Would he even remember? Marinette didn't know enough about drinking or drunkenness to anticipate which memories he'd retain.

She supposed she'd find out while they went on patrol that night.

For now, she needed to get through Professor DiVincenzo’s monotone lecture on textures this afternoon.

“Tikki, what do you think is taking him so long? I know he has one more shoot at three today and then he has to stop in at his father’s offices to sign some paperwork for their last show. But how hard is it to send one little text?” Marinette checked her phone, again, to find no notification showing on its screen.

She pointedly ignored the incredulous expression on Tikki’s face. She'd never tell how she managed to find out his schedule so quickly.

Marinette had fifty minutes until she needed to get to her calculus class, so she'd chosen to have her lunch. It was nice sitting out on the green grass behind the athletic building. Nobody was ever around.

“I don't know, Marinette. Maybe he washed it off his hand before he put your number in his phone,” Tikki suggested helpfully. “I think you shouldn't worry about it, though. Adrien will call soon!”

Marinette was grateful for the little kwami’s everlasting optimism.

“He just seemed so interested, you know? I don't know what changed, except for that stupid akuma. I wish Hawk Moth had stayed under whatever rock he was hiding under the past few months.”

“There isn't much we can do about that, is there? We can take whatever he throws at us!”

“Maybe.” Marinette hugged her knees to her chest. “I just wish Adrien would call me. It would make this whole Chat Noir thing so much easier to think through.”

“Would it, though?” Tikki asked.

“Yes. Because then I'd know Adrien is who I should be focusing on. But Chat just came back into my life the other night and he said he loved me. He doesn't even know me.” Marinette tried not to spiral. She tried really hard.

“Yes, he does! He knows the you that you don't like to show! You're everything Ladybug is, and Ladybug is everything you are. Because you're the same person!” Tikki responded. Sometimes her Chosen was infuriatingly dense.

“But when I'm Ladybug, it's all so different. I feel free. I feel that I can be confident and assertive because nobody expects goody-two-shoes Marinette.”

“That's not true. I've seen you stand up for your classmates, and speak to what you believe is true. I've been with you this whole time, and you can't fool me.”

Marinette didn't know how to respond. She ate quietly until her phone pinged. It wasn't Adrien.

Alya wanted to know if she could meet up. Of course, she could.

Marinette wandered into the quad, hoping Alya would see her first. Her wish was granted as she was accosted by words from a familiar voice.

“I'm doing it. I'm doing it. I'm going to the registrar and I'm changing my major and I can't go alone and I hope I'm not making a mistake and damnit the Ladyblog was so successful to me but it might not look that successful to someone else even though I put so much work into it and I'm so scared I'll be a terrible journalist but I think-”

“Alya! I'll go with you,” Marinette offered with a smile. She was glad to be there for her friend and offer a supportive hand wherever she may have been headed.

Alya laid her head on Marinette’s shoulder. “I just want to do the right thing. I feel so much pressure, like an anvil on my head.”

“Well, the great thing about university is that you can change your mind, or even continue your education. This isn't an end-all-be-all,” Marinette reasoned, repeating almost word for word what her own mother had told her to assuage her own fears. “Did you know the average freshman changes their major three times before making a final decision?”

“No, I didn't,” Alya answered, perking up a bit. “I suppose if everyone else is doing it, it can't be that bad.” She winked at the blue eyed girl smiling at her.

“That's it! Now, let's get to the registrar before they all go on their lunch break!” 

Alya followed obediently. “I'm really glad I have a friend like you to walk with me through stuff like this.”

Marinette’s heart warmed and she hugged her very best friend, happy to be forgiven for her misstep at Chez Georges.

It seemed like ten years passed before it was time for Ladybug to meet up with Chat Noir. Her stomach was in knots and she felt very nauseated. What should she expect? How should she react? Was she supposed to say anything? Bring it up? Don't bring it up? What?

Her heart leapt when she heard the familiar drop he took onto the rooftop beside her.

“Good evening, my lady,” he greeted her.

“Hi, Chat Noir.”

His body twitched like he wanted to move forward but chose not to. Instead, he tried to mask it by running a claw through his hair.

“So what's the word?” he asked at last. “Any akumas? What's the Ladyblog say?”

“Um, it seems quiet tonight. I haven't really seen anything weird.”

“Me either. I guess we could poke around on campus for a little bit. It's Friday night, you know,” he said suggestively, wiggling his ears.

“We can do whatever you want, Kitty,” Ladybug said, already winding up to lasso her yo-yo to the nearest chimney. A more-than-tiny part of her hoped that involved kissing him again, but she tried to think about Adrien instead. And that led to obsessing. No, no. Focus on the task at hand.

“I've really missed this,” she told him truthfully. “I missed this, and I missed you.”

He smiled warmly at her. “As have I, my lady.”

They had just arrived on campus and Ladybug was so busy trying to decide between Adrien and Chat Noir that she missed her mark, landing flat on her back on top of the athletic building.

“Bugaboo, what's gotten into you?” Chat asked as he lightly dropped down beside her.

“I'm just a little distracted tonight.”

“Want to talk about it?” he asked, perching himself on the edge of the roof. He pat the space next to him, and she took it.

“Well, actually, there's this guy,” she began, watching his features carefully for any sign of his recollection of their kiss. “I don't know what to do about him.”

“Tell me about him,” her partner said, leaning back and folding his hands under his head.

“Okay. He's smart, kind, funny, handsome, and I get so tongue tied when I'm with him. He smiles a lot, and sometimes he smells like stinky cheese but it's not often so I don't really mind.”

She thought she heard Chat gasp, but he didn't physically react so she continued.

“I've had a crush on him since high school. He sat in front of me and I'd just sit there, staring at the back of his head, and hoping he was thinking about me too.”

“I can't imagine he'd be thinking of anyone else,” Chat Noir choked out as he sat up. “He'd be an idiot not to.”

“Oh, I don't think so. I'm pretty sure I was barely a blip on his radar. But things are sort of different not. I ran into him the other night. He asked for my number, and he kissed me,” Ladybug said, a guilty look on her face. She still couldn't tell if Chat Noir remembered their own kiss. “I still haven't heard one word from him. Not a call, text-anything!”

“Ladybug, I...”

“What?”

Ladybug turned her big blue eyes toward the black cat, waiting for him to say something. She sort of hoped he'd tell her to forget that guy and to kiss him instead. She also hoped he'd give her some kind of insight into Adrien’s confusing, irritating brain. She hoped many things, and none of them were what actually happened.

“Claws in.”


	7. Chapter 7

Ladybug’s mouth dropped open.

Adrien?

“Am I dreaming? Adrien?” She squinted like a complete space cadet.

“My lady,” he said, bending to place a soft kiss on the back of her hand.

“Oh my Gawd are we doing this right now?” a dry little voice came from Ladybug’s right.

“Don't ruin this, Plagg. I'm sweeping my lady off her feet.”

“Mmk, well, whatever. Ladybug, can't you let Tikki out? It'd be nice to see her, you know. Try thinking of someone else's needs. And you know what someone else could use?” Plagg floated up to Adrien and batted his bright green eyes. “Caaaamembert!”

Adrien rolled his eyes at the theatrics and flicked the little black kwami a wedge of smelly cheese.

Marinette watched this scene unfolding in front of her. She had too many emotions to really nail one down and say ‘Yes, I feel this one.’

“You're Chat Noir? This whole time?” was what she managed to say.

“Yes. Are you mad?” he asked, taking a tentative step toward her.

She blinked a few times. “Yes. No. I- no, I'm not mad. But I am mad.” She thought about it a little longer. “You're sure you've been Chat Noir this entire time?”

“Um, yes.”

“Well then, yes, I am mad!” Her transformation dropped then, and a little red blur barreled into Plagg, knocking him over.

“Plagg! I missed you!” Tikki gripped the tiny black cat and refused to let go. Marinette thought she saw a bit of a blush on the miniature cat’s dark cheeks.

“So this is why you never called?” Marinette whispered.

“Yeah. After I kissed you at Chez Georges, I really thought I'd be taking you to dinner tonight. But then that akuma showed up and I saw Ladybug again…” his voice trailed off. “I couldn't help falling in love with her-uh, you?-all over again.”

“So you kissed Ladybug-uh, me-that same night?”

“Yes.” His cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “It was a douche move. I'm sorry.”

She huffed. “One might say it's all fine because I'm Ladybug. But it sure doesn't feel fine.”

“I mean, you jumped on me in the club…”

“I did do that,” Marinette remembered, horrified. She'd never been so forward in her life.

“And you told me I was amazing.”

“I did say that.” She made yet another pledge to herself to never get drunk again.

They stood in silence, awkwardly. Every time one began to talk, the other would also try, and then no one would say anything.

“Should we just...go?” Marinette asked timidly. She really didn't want to go. 

“No! No, I just, I don't know what to say.”

Plagg and Tikki stopped chasing each other in circles to stare at them.

“Isn't this what you wanted, Marinette? You wanted to tell Chat Noir who you really were,” Tikki reminded her.

“Yes, it was. And now I don't know what to say. I feel like the dog who's finally caught her tail.”

Adrien gave his signature chuckle and ran his hands through his light locks. “I feel the same way. Except the cat finally caught the mouse. Or ladybug,” he added lamely. “I just want you to know, I'm glad it's you. I'm sorry for all that confusing shit at the club, I actually was hitting on you and I really liked dancing with you.”

“What would you have done with me if I wasn't Ladybug?”

The question hung in the air.

“I don't know,” he answered honestly. “I’d like to think I’d have pursued the girl whose name I knew and whose face I could pick out of a crowd. I’d like to think I would have chosen the girl who always made me feel special and wanted.” He seemed to remember who he was talking to. “I mean, not that Ladybug never did! Or ever did? Do you know what I mean?” He took a step toward her.

Marinette smiled. She did.

Adrien took another step closer. He was close enough that she could hear him breathing.

“Marinette, when I fell in love with Ladybug those couple years ago, I wish I would have known it was you I was falling for. And now I feel like I have all the pieces to your puzzle and I just need to figure out how they all fit together.” He reached out to touch her cheek, holding her gaze. “I should have known it was you when I heard you in the club, rambling about Jagged Stone and designing that album cover. I even had you sign my copy!”

She could finally settle on an emotion to feel. Joy. Joy was coursing through her veins. Her friend, her partner, was the boy she loved from high school. 

“I'm sorry too,” she finally said. “I guess I never realized that you really did like me when I was Ladybug. I sort of thought you flirted with everyone.” She also stepped closer, encouraging him to go ahead and place his palm on her cheek.

The warmth of his hand struck her, and she closed her eyes. He was near enough that all it would take to feel his lips was a nudge. One little nudge, and they were breathing the same air, noses touching, sharp intakes of oxygen, and-

“Aagghhhh!”

The shrill scream pierced the electricity between them, and they jolted apart, robbed of the moment.

“What the fuck!” Adrien yelled, craning his neck to see where the scream came from.

“Well, what do you say, Kitty? Save France with me?” Marinette requested, dancing her fingertips between his.

“Always,” he said with a Cheshire grin.


	8. Chapter 8

Ladybug and Chat Noir arrived at the scene, yo-yo and baton at the ready. But they were not prepared for the disaster that awaited them.

Mixologist had Alya by the hair, and Nino was brandishing a Gibson guitar that dissolved into a puddle once he hit the akuma with it.

“Oh, no. The Mixologist is back!” Ladybug cried. “And he has Alya!”

“We'll get her back, Ladybug. The akuma is in his liquor bottle, right? I'll just smash it again-no pawblem!” Before Ladybug could say anything, Chat Noir had leaped over Nino’s head, coming down with the baton extended. 

The akuma cackled. “Highball!” 

A large, golden ball came hurtling at Chat Noir, who was forced to use the baton intended for Mixologist to bat the ball away. Foiled, he side-stepped and returned to Ladybug.

“All you need to do is give me your Miraculous, and I'll let her go! Prairie Fire!” 

All five of them were now surrounded by a ring of fire. Ladybug was getting nervous. She had a nasty taste in her mouth as she tried to think of a way to get Alya, put out the fire, and release the evil akuma.

“Lucky Charm!” she called, tossing her yo-yo into the air.

A five-gallon bucket fell into her hands.

“What the hell?” she asked. “A bucket?”

“Ladybug?” Chat Noir shouted. 

Mixologist was gearing up again. “Dirty Martini!” he blasted at Ladybug.

She saw the stream of dirt coming at her, now red with black polka dots. She noticed the fire turning red and black, and knew what to do. 

Ladybug caught the dirt in the bucket, and she was grateful for its magical properties. It never seemed to fill up to the top. “Chat Noir! The fire!” she called to him as he dropped next to her and took the bucket. 

He ran around the circle of flames, dousing it with the bucketful of dirt, then tossed the empty container back to Ladybug. He grabbed Nino and ran him to the perimeter of the area.

Mixologist growled. “Last Word!” he shot at her. Ladybug caught the stream in the bucket and flung it back in his face. “Planter’s-”

He never got to the “punch” part. His vocal cords simply did not work. He had spoken his Last Word.

His martial arts were no match for Ladybug and Chat Noir. Ladybug retrieved Alya while Chat smashed the liquor bottle yet again. 

“No more evildoing for you, little akuma! Time to de-evilize!” Releasing the purified butterfly, she waved goodbye to it. “Bye-bye, little butterfly. Miraculous Ladybug!”

The healing swarm of ladybugs swept the area, erasing scorch marks, drying up liquor puddles, and cleansing the air of alcohol fumes. The bartender crouched on the ground on all fours.

“Where am I?”

“Pound it!”

Ladybug’s earrings began to beep as Alya started chattering at them, her phone camera on and directed at the pair. Nino was close behind her, not wanting to let her out of his sight.

“Would you like to make a statement?” she asked excitedly.

Ladybug opened her mouth but was interrupted by Chat.

“I'll handle this, my lady. You better get going!”

“Oh, sonofabitch, you're right.” But before she left, she came up behind him and placed light hands around his waist. “You'll not be far behind, will you?” she whispered into a cat ear. It perked up.

“Whoa, what was that?” squealed Alya, clamoring to get her camera in Ladybug’s face.

“Sorry, bug out!” Ladybug made it around the corner before her transformation ran out. Tikki flopped into her hand.

“So...hungry…” the little red kwami said. She certainly was not as dramatic as Plagg. 

Marinette pulled a few chocolate chip cookies from a plastic bag in her purse, and made her way home to wait for Tikki’s munching to stop. 

“I hope he gets here soon,” Marinette sighed. She rested her chin on her hands as she gazed at the view overlooking the student center. 

“Don't you worry, Marinette. And look! Here he comes!” Tikki pointed out. 

The black-haired girl could see a figure hopping from rooftop to rooftop, his baton now as long as a pole vault. He easily landed on the open windowsill and dropped his transformation before his feet hit the ground.

“My lady,” he greeted her as he kissed her hand.

“How did the interview with Alya go?”

“Oh, you know. She wasn't super interested in the pawsome job we just did. She was only interested in asking if I'd already done what I'm about to do right meow.”

Adrien laid his palm on Marinette’s cheek, and she didn't even mind the puns. His other hand tickled at her rib cage, a gesture of desire to feel the skin under her blouse. Her breathing was quick and a little choppy, and her heart pounded faster and faster, harder and harder until she felt the most feathery light pressure on her lips. 

She mentally kicked herself for forgetting her chapstick, but Adrien didn't seem to care. She wound her fingers in his hair, smiling a little as they drew back.

“What are you thinking, my lady?” he mumbled as he nuzzled into her neck.

“I'm thinking that I hope Alya doesn't get home early,” she said mischievously, and drew him away from the window.


	9. Epilogue

The golden rays of the morning sun hit Marinette square in the face, and she stretched. The lump next to her grunted.

“It's not morning already, is it?” a sleepy Adrien asked, rubbing his eyes.

“I know kitties like to sleep in, but I have an eight o’clock class on Tuesdays. I'm sure Alya won't mind if you stick around.”

Marinette was already gathering her toothbrush and toothpaste.

“No, no, I'm up. Where do you think you're going?” He reached out and tugged her back, ignoring the half-hearted protests.

“But I have dragon breath!” she laughed.

“So do I. Wanna see whose is worse?”

“No!” she squealed, trying to get away. Adrien was quick like a cat, though, and successfully wrestled her back into bed. He wrapped his arms around her and she nestled back into him.

“I won't breathe on you. But I want a kiss before you go.”

She squirmed around to face him, her mouth firmly closed. Giving him a chaste peck on the lips, Marinette pulled lightly on a blond lock covering his eyes.

“I'll miss you. We're still meeting at lunch, right?”

“Yep, but I'll be late. I have to register for next semester and then I have to finish up some paperwork for HR at my father’s company.”

“How exciting!” Marinette said gleefully, clapping her hands. “Next semester it'll be like old times! The four of us here, going to school together.”

“Yeah, I'm sure Nino is thrilled to have me crash on his couch. He was so excited to have that apartment to himself,” Adrien said dryly. “And I don't know how I'll hide that little shit,” he remembered, gesturing at the dozing Plagg.

“Maybe we should, um, I don't know, maybe look at apartments?” Marinette suggested timidly. She wasn't sure how he'd react to living together.

She wasn't disappointed.

“That's a great idea, Bugaboo. And we'll even look for a two bedroom if Alya wants to move with us.”

“Uh, I doubt it's us she wants to move in with.” Marinette wrinkled her nose. “I think we make her puke.”

“I don't disagree. So, what time is your class again?”

“Eight. Why, is it-oh, shit! I'm going to be late!”

As Marinette kissed Adrien again, and again for the “last” time, and once more on her way out the door, she couldn't help but feel it again. Joy.


End file.
